


Bad Blood

by IsaWritings



Category: Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3790033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaWritings/pseuds/IsaWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: It might haven taken a while for Blaine's parents to come around and be fully understanding and accepting of his sexuality, but they are. However, his father's parents come to stay with them for a few weeks over the summer, and they are very unaccepting. They're overly critical of everything he does and when his parents aren't around, they emotionally abuse him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Another fill for a prompt (which I will add at the end of the story since I don't want to spoil too much). 
> 
> Warning: Homophobia. Also, I would like to point out that some of that homophobia is religion-based. I know religion can be a touchy subject, so I'd like to explain before you read the story. I gave Blaine's grandmother religious motives for her homophobia since it was in the prompt (and it made it more interesting). I do know that not all Christians think like that (as proven by Glee itself in the form of Quinn, Sam, Joe and Mercedes), but it's also true that there are Christians that do. Blaine's grandmother in this story is just an example of that, not a representation of every Christian in the world. So please don't be offended.
> 
> Personally, I'm not Christian or homophobic (I wouldn't ship Klaine if I were), so this was kind of difficult to write. 
> 
> Disclaimer: If I owned Glee or any of its characters, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, now would I?

 

**Bad Blood**

_Ding!_

In the corner of the laptop screen, a small pop-up window informed Blaine that “Kurt Hummel is online”. Only a few seconds later, a call came in, which he didn't hesitate to accept.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, handsome. You come here often?”

“Yes, actually,” Blaine answered, going along with the joke. “Why? Do you like what you see?”

“Oh, very much. Do you want to go out some time?” Kurt asked, smiling seductively.

“With you? Any time.”

His fiancé beamed happily.

“You will not _believe_ what happened to me today. So, I was just walking home from work...”

Blaine listened attentively while Kurt launched into a mad story about some crazy man who had been convinced that Kurt was an alien sent to earth to rid humanity of all corruption and who had then proceeded to spout one conspiracy theory after the other, until Kurt had finally managed to shake him off by saying he already knew about all of that and had to return to his hidden space ship in order to report his findings.

“I thought I was never going to be able to get rid of him. I had to tell him my ship had a shield that was impenetrable for humans to keep him from following me home.”

“I wish I'd been there to see that. And I would love to see your space ship, by the way,” Blaine teased, chuckling.

“I can't wait for you to get to New York,” Kurt sighed.

“I know, me either. But at least I'll be there soon.”

Kurt hummed.

“So, what news from Lima?”

“Well, everyone is a bit on edge because the end of summer is getting nearer. Sam is kind of freaking out about moving to New York and Tina keeps bursting into tears whenever anyone brings up September, usually followed by Sugar. Oh, and my grandparents are coming over.”

“Which ones?” Kurt asked suspiciously.

“... The Andersons,” Blaine answered with something of a grimace.

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah, and it gets even better,” Blaine said, pausing for dramatic effect. “They're staying for two weeks.”

The pixelated image of Kurt on the screen pulled a face. He had once met Blaine's paternal grandparents very briefly, but that had been enough to convince him that Blaine hadn't been exaggerating their utter homophobia, a trait they had initially passed on to their son.

“My dad has gone to pick them up. I figure I have about an hour of freedom left before they get here.”

“Can't you make a break for it and come and hide in New York until they're gone?” Kurt suggested. “I'm sure Rachel and Santana won't mind harbouring a fugitive.”

“Hah, I wish I could. But no, unfortunately, I'm required to be here.”

“What about Cooper? Is he going to be there?”

“Yeah, he's coming in next week, once his commercial goes on a break.”

“Well, that's at least something,” Kurt commented, carrying his laptop into the kitchen, where – judging by the sounds – he started making tea for himself. “Perhaps his self-absorption will come in handy for once.”

Blaine laughed.

“Imagine that. But, hey, maybe it won't be that bad, after all. They might have changed their attitude since the last time I saw them.”

“Do you believe that yourself?”

“My parents weren't exactly supportive of my sexuality at the beginning either. And they came around eventually. Who knows, maybe my grandparents will too once they realise I'm still the same person.”

“Maybe.”

But Kurt's tone made it clear he wasn't nearly as optimistic as his fiancé was.

They talked a bit longer about other things, like Rachel's overnight success with _Funny Girl_ and the sad yet inevitable disbanding of Pamela Lansbury. Finally, half an hour later than Blaine had originally predicted, the sound of the front door closing pulled them out of their private little bubble.

“Kurt, I have to go. They're here.”

Kurt sighed in disappointment.

“Okay. Good luck. And remember that I love you.”

“Love you too. I'll call you tonight.”

He disconnected the call and shut his laptop completely off. Taking a deep breath, he mentally braced himself for what was about to come before exhaling and making his way downstairs. He entered the hall, where his mother was taking his grandmother's light coat.

“Oh, thank you very much, Paula, dear,” the latter said, her voice quiet and fragile from old age. It belied her overall appearance, however. Despite being almost eighty years old and not being very tall – her posture added a bit –, Mildred Anderson was still a very impressive woman. Blaine had seen pictures of her from when she was young and he sometimes tried to imagine how she had been then, before she had had to harden her heart in order to survive her arranged marriage into the Anderson clan. In the pictures, Blaine could see a proper and dutiful yet carefree and cheerful girl. The woman she was now never went further than a polite smile – never a real one –, making her lips thin and her eyes narrow a bit.

Howard Anderson, the husband she had learned to appreciate, had nothing of the fragility reflected in his wife's voice, even though he was four years older than she was. He was also more than a head taller than his wife and had clearly passed his height on to his only son and his oldest grandson. Blaine had never known him as anything other than a very strict man, who disciplined his children – and in extension his grandchildren – in an almost military fashion, like a general ordering his troops around.

Luckily for Cooper and Blaine, Nicholas Anderson had broken with family tradition; first by marrying the woman he loved instead of the woman his father had wanted him to marry, and next by raising his children as a loving if somewhat old-fashioned father. He had his principles, of course, but he would never treat his children like they were his inferiors. There had been the matter of Blaine being gay, which he and his wife had had trouble understanding and accepting at first, but ever since they had met Burt Hummel, things had gotten a lot better between them.

Blaine went to stand in the doorway, ready to greet his grandparents as soon as they were done exchanging the necessary pleasantries with his mother. His grandfather turned around and, upon seeing him, his smile dropped from his face to be replaced by a deep frown.

“Blaine.” He nodded once in acknowledgement of his presence, then walked into the living room. His grandmother, on the other hand, didn't say anything. She threw him a sad look, shook her head slightly and sighed deeply, something of pity in her expression.

Once they were both installed on the couch, Blaine and his father brought their suitcases inside and to the guest room, a room Blaine knew he would be avoiding for the next two weeks if his grandparents' reaction to him was any indication.

The rest of the evening, Blaine did his best to appear interested in the conversations going on around him and to respect the proper etiquette during dinner, knowing his every move would be watched and commented on, especially by his grandfather. He discreetly checked the clock several times, but every minute seemed to last at least twice as long. Finally, they were all done and, after clearing the table, they settled in the living room to watch some television. Still, Blaine felt he could not relax entirely. He knew it would be impolite to go upstairs to his room, though, so he stayed put until the film they were watching was over and he was finally able to retreat without offending anyone.

Once he was safe in his room, Blaine let out a deep sigh he had felt building up the entire evening and flopped face down onto his bed. After laying there for a while, thinking about how the evening had gone, he turned around, grabbed his cell phone from his bedside table and made the promised phone call to New York. He told Kurt all about the evening with his grandparents, not including the fact that they had both pointedly ignored him the whole time and how he had felt his grandfather glare at him more than once.

But, hey, it could have been worse, he figured, and there was no need to worry Kurt needlessly.

* * *

The weekend passed fairly smoothly. There were still some – many – glares aimed at Blaine when his parents weren't looking, but aside from that and the perceptible tension whenever Blaine was in the same room as his grandfather, nothing noteworthy really happened. Although he still wouldn't let his guard down completely, Blaine was starting to think he might have been worrying for no reason before.

On Monday, however, he was proven spectacularly wrong.

Neither of his parents had managed to get time off until the following Friday, which meant Blaine was alone with his grandparents for the first time since their arrival. To Blaine, it felt like some kind of switch had been flipped, like a barrier had been taken away all of a sudden. Where before there had only been a slight tension between them, now it seemed almost tangible.

In the morning, all three went about their own business, but his grandparents did insist that they all had lunch together. Blaine figured this was his chance to have an actual conversation with them, maybe even ease some of that tension.

“So,” his grandfather started gruffly, interrupting Blaine's inner search for a 'safe' topic to bring up, “you graduated yet?”

“Um, yes,” Blaine said, taken aback by the harsh tone, “last June, actually.”

“Don't stutter like that. And look up when you speak.”

“Yes, sir.”

They continued eating in silence for a few minutes. Blaine wanted to break it, but his mind was a complete blank. He should've known he needn't have bothered, though; Howard Anderson was used to taking the lead in a conversation.

“If you've already graduated, why are you still here?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Why are you still here? Don't you think you've been a leech on your poor parents for long enough?” Before Blaine could think of an answer, his grandfather continued. “Haven't you caused them enough misery yet, choosing to be... like _that_?”

“I'm not sure what choice you are referring to,” Blaine quickly cut in while he had the chance, “but if you are talking about me being gay, I can assure you it was not a conscious choice I made. I just am.”

“Don't talk back to me, boy!” his grandfather thundered, slamming his hand on the table. “I've always known Nicholas was too soft on you. And look what it got him: a fag for a son. If you were my son, there would've been none of this nonsense. I would've had you straightened out faster than you could even say the word 'fag'.”

For a few minutes, there was complete silence, except for the clinking of cutlery against plates. Blaine sat completely still, staring down at his own only half finished plate, his appetite gone and replaced by a giant lump in his throat he just couldn't swallow away.

“Don't sag in your chair like that. You look like a bag of potatoes.”

For the rest of the lunch, Blaine's grandfather kept making comments like that, criticising every little move Blaine made, even when he didn't do anything wrong.

Once again, Blaine excused himself and escaped to his room as soon as it was deemed 'proper' to. He considered calling Kurt, but resisted the urge reasoning that Kurt was probably working right now. He also didn't want to alarm his fiancé when there was nothing he could do about the situation anyway. Instead, he called Sam to ask if they could hang out the following day. He then spent the rest of the afternoon getting rid of the uncomfortable lump in his throat by viciously killing zombies in a video game Sam had given him for his birthday.

By the time he heard his parents coming home, Blaine had a plan. If anything, the disastrous lunch that day had made it very clear to him that his grandparents hadn't changed their minds about his sexuality at all and probably never would, and that they were determined to make sure he knew that. Therefore, he had to avoid being alone with his grandparents as much as possible and hope they wouldn't call him names or overly criticise him when his parents were around. Then, once Cooper arrived on Wednesday, they would hopefully ignore Blaine in favour of his older brother, who could never seem to do anything wrong. And no matter what, he resolved not to let whatever they said get to him. He had had worse in the past, he could handle some name-calling. He wasn't going to complain to his parents since he didn't want to be the cause of any fights – and some part of him he didn't want to admit existed dreaded the possibility that his parents would choose his grandparents' side if he did. He had to keep Kurt out of the loop as much as possible as well lest he call Cooper or even Blaine's parents to tell them what was happening. He wasn't going to lie, of course – not that he even could without Kurt noticing –, but he was going to keep the details to himself.

Nodding to himself, Blaine steeled himself and headed downstairs for what promised to be another uncomfortable dinner.

* * *

By Wednesday, Blaine had already nearly broken his promise to himself. Ever since his parents had proudly announced Blaine's engagement with Kurt during dinner on Monday, his grandmother had joined the endless disparagement ofBlaine's entire being with religion-based remarks of how she was scared for his soul, which she was convinced would burn in Hell if he didn't end his sinful way of living.

The only thing still keeping him going was the knowledge Cooper was coming that day, which meant the attention would finally be drawn away from him. And although it stung a bit to see how Cooper was welcomed with open arms and lots of hugs from both of their grandparents, he would rather be ignored than submit to the treatment he had endured the previous days any longer.

He should've known better. He should've realised they wouldn't relent just because his brother was now here as well. He of all people should've remembered how stubborn the Andersons had always been reputed to be.

As expected, the glaring and criticism merrily continued, although the rest of the family didn't seem to notice or simply brushed it off as Howard being his usual strict self. Blaine knew it didn't really matter how he sat or ate or whether he spoke or not, his grandfather would always find something to reprimand him on, something he was doing wrong. Hell, to his grandparents, Blaine's whole existence was wrong.

But it didn't stop there. Presumably, his grandparents had noticed he was avoiding them on purpose and had explicitly asked him to spend more time with them during the day. And of course, they had done so in front of his parents, who had then proceeded to remark that Blaine could still spend time with his friends after his grandparents had gone back home and

“Perhaps you can spend some time at home for a change, Blaine.”

Inwardly seething, Blaine had tried to argue that his friends would all too soon go their separate ways and that he had to spend as much time with them as possible while he still could do so without having to book a plane. To no avail, though. In the end, he was forced to cancel the rest of his plans with Tina and Sam that week in order to keep his grandparents company.

Which meant more comments, more conversations that weren't actual conversations, but rather lectures that left Blaine vulnerable and emotionally exhausted. He wouldn't let it get him down, however. He knew his grandfather was trying to break him, but Blaine refused to complain or give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He was an Anderson, after all, and he could be just as stubborn as any of them.

* * *

“Nick.”

Paula stood waiting impatiently for her absent-minded husband to take the dripping plate she was trying to keep from falling out of her equally wet hand.

“ _Nick_.”

Finally, he was startled out of his deep thoughts.

“What? Oh.”

He took the plate, drying it off automatically without really paying attention to what he was doing.

“What's got you thinking so hard?” she asked, rinsing another plate.

“Have you noticed something different about Blaine?” Nick replied.

“What do you mean by different?”

“I don't know... Quieter maybe?”

Paula shrugged. With most of her attention going to her parents-in-law all week, Blaine had faded away to the background a bit. “Maybe he just misses Kurt.”

“Maybe. But... I don't know. Maybe it's nothing and I'm overreacting. I just have the feeling something is wrong with him.”

“How come?”

“Just... These last weeks, he's been going on and on about going to New York and NYADA and being there with Kurt and how amazing it will be.” Paula laughed a little at her husband's attempt to imitate their youngest son's excited voice. “But I haven't heard him talk about Kurt or New York once since my parents have gotten here. And when we brought up their engagement, I was half expecting him to tell them every tiny little detail about how he proposed, but he didn't say a word.”

“Hm,” Paula paused, a few knifes and forks in one hand, waiting to be cleaned. “I didn't really notice. But that _is_ strange.”

“Do you think it might have something to do with my parents? I mean, you know they're not exactly supportive of homosexuality.”

“You think Blaine doesn't want to make them uncomfortable by talking about it openly?”

“I don't know. Could be.”

Paula resumed washing the rest of the cutlery left in the sink while she took a few minutes to consider what her husband had said.

“Blaine doesn't usually hide like that, though,” she eventually remarked. “Especially not since going to Dalton.”

“That's true.”

They continued the rest of the washing-up in silence.

Although they didn't discuss it any further, the conversation with his wife left Nick unsatisfied. For some reason, he had a gut feeling that there was more going on than just Blaine not wanting to make others uncomfortable. He didn't just not speak about Kurt or NYADA. Nick had noticed Blaine didn't talk at all – not even about neutral topics – unless he was asked a direct question.

And there was more Nicholas had noticed that he hadn't told Paula about, like the fact that his father seemed to criticise Blaine constantly for the smallest things, while he didn't do the same to Cooper – who didn't exactly have the best manners out of the two of them. Nick knew his father was a difficult man to live with or please and that he insisted on the boys having good manners. But if anyone needed a reminder of those, it was Cooper and not Blaine, who already sat almost as straight as the back of the chair and was polite to a T.

Somehow, all of this just didn't fit in the picture of Blaine not wanting to spite his grandparents. It was like something else was going on, but Nick just couldn't put his finger on it.

The rest of the evening, Nick kept a close eye on both his father and his son, who were sitting on opposite sides of the living room, as far away from each other as possible. Some film was playing on TV, but Nicholas couldn't even tell what it was about, so focussed was he on the problem at hand. He shot surreptitious glances at the one, then the other. Blaine, on the one hand, was sitting too stiffly in his seat and his gaze was too fixed on the screen, as if he were trying not to look at the rest of the people in the room. Nicholas realised that his son wouldn't be able to tell which film they were watching either. Now he also knew for sure that the reason for that was sitting on the other couch. More than once, Nick caught his father shooting disapproving glares at his youngest son, until the latter eventually politely excused himself, claiming he was tired.

It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet.

As he got ready for bed that night, Nick decided he had to do something to prevent this from getting any worse. Tomorrow he would have a serious talk with his parents. He would tell his father to ease off on Blaine, and he would make sure they knew that the latter's homosexuality was accepted here and that he would not stand for his parents making Blaine uncomfortable.

* * *

Blaine was alreadycounting down to next Friday, the day his grandparents would finally go back home. Only seven days, three hours and forty-one minutes to go.

Blaine sighed inconspicuously. He wasn't sure he could take these unrelenting emotional attacks that much longer. He knew that, at some point, he was going to snap and then he'd either pour his heart out to Kurt – who knew about the situation, but not how bad it really was –, or it would all come out in a giant outburst of anger, which would most likely result in him apologising for that same outburst.

Seven days, three hours and forty minutes.

As his grandfather launched into another rant of how “those faggots are ruining this country”, Blaine tried his best to follow Kurt's advice and focus on New York, now only a few weeks away.

“What makes them think it's okay to be like that? Am I right, Millie?”

“Of course, dear. You know what the Bible says; it's a downright sin.”

“Exactly,” Howard said, not really listening to what his wife said.

_Ignore them. Think about New York and what you and Kurt will do once you get there_.

“If it were up to me, I'd make short work of it. Send them all to the army, that would teach them how to be real men.”

“Or maybe a Christian gay conversion camp,” Mildred suggested.

_Once I'm in New York,_ _we can go to_ _Central Park_ _, or_ _go see an Off-Broadway show_.

“But no, now they've even infiltrated the army. When I was young...”

“... if they pray for their souls, swear off their sinful lives and repent, perhaps God will forgive them and they won't go to Hell.”

_Or_ _maybe_ _a long walk around_ _New York, to get to know the city_.

“If you'd been _my_ son, this would never have happened. I wouldn't have let it.”

“Of course, your chances of being forgiven are slim.”

_Why is Cooper not here? Why is he allowed to go out with his friends when I'm not?_

“You would be engaged to a nice, decent girl and going to Harvard or Stanford to study medicine...”

“I mean, you can't choose to sell your soul to the devil and then expect the Lord to just forgive you if you pray hard enough.”

“It's not a choice,” Blaine retorted quietly. “If God exists, He made me this way.”

“You still need to pay for your sins,” Millie continued, pretending she hadn't heard him.

“... not marrying that good-for-nothing fairy–”

“Don't talk about Kurt like that.”

“–who'll just drag you down with him,” his grandfather raised his voice to drown out Blaine's. “I just can't understand why Nicholas hasn't thrown you out yet. If I'd had a son like you, I would've rather not had a son at all.”

“What did you say?”

Blaine turned his head so quickly his neck cracked. His eyes widened as he realised who had just spoken up. There, standing in the doorway, was his father, with Cooper somewhat behind him, staring at them open-mouthed.

“What did you just say to him?” Nick hissed, a furious look on his face. Seeing his expression, Blaine wondered how long the two of them had been standing there and how much they had heard.

“Something I should have said years ago,” Howard answered, standing up to face his seething son. “This nonsense has gone on for long enough, Nicholas. It's about time he learns that such behaviour is not accepted in this family. And if you're not going to do anything about it, I will.”

Nick went to stand next to his youngest child and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“First of all, I don't think there's a problem, so there's nothing I have to 'do something about',” Nick said angrily. “And secondly, even if there were, it wouldn't be any of your business either way.”

“You made it my business when you failed to nip this kind of behaviour in the bud. And now it's too late, of course. You should've straightened him out when this began or thrown him out if that didn't work.”

“Don't you dare,” Nick fumed. Blaine felt the hand on his shoulder tighten. “He's my son. Him being gay doesn't change that and won't make me love him any less. I can't believe you'd suggest I should throw him out.”

“Oh please, Nicholas, open your eyes. He's manipulated you into believing this is normal. It's not. And I will not stand for this abomination tainting our family any longer,” Howard shouted, pointing at Blaine, who was still sitting frozen on the couch, as he said this.

An icy silence fell over the room.

Howard and Nick were glaring at each other, both refusing to be the first to look away.

Mildred looked between the two men, her hands clutched tightly together and squinting a bit, as if she were calculating which one of them would win this staring match.

In the doorway, Cooper's expression had turned from surprised to indignant to furious in a matter of seconds when his grandfather's words finally sunk in properly and his hands were balled into fists.

Blaine looked down at his shaking hands, trying to swallow away the lump in his throat – which had come back with a vengeance – and blinking hard. He desperately wanted to leave the room, but his father's hand was keeping him firmly in place.

“Get out.”

Nick's voice was no more than a whisper, but the hate and contempt in it was obvious.

“Nicholas–”

“I said, get out. I will not allow you to insult my son under my roof. I want you both to leave and not come back until you can accept Blaine as he is. And if you can't, then don't bother coming back at all.”

“Nicky,” Mildred tried, using his old childhood nickname, “you can't be serious. How can you choose... _him_ over us?”

“Oh, I'm dead serious.” Nick turned away from the people he was suddenly ashamed to call his parents. “Cooper, would you mind bringing their suitcases downstairs?”

“Not at all,” Cooper said darkly.

“I want you two packed and gone within half an hour,” Nick told his parents.

Finally, Blaine couldn't take it anymore. He shrugged his dad's hand off and left the room, taking the stairs two at a time and slamming the door of his bedroom behind him. He paced around for a while and tried to get his emotions back under control, but ultimately failed and sagged down onto his bed, his face buried in his hands. From outside, he could vaguely hear the booming voice of his grandfather and some time later, the sound of the front door closing with a bang.

By the time Cooper made it upstairs to his room and knocked, coming in gingerly when he didn't get any answer, Blaine was lying on his side facing the wall. Cooper settled himself on the other side, cautiously putting a hand on his brother's back.

“You okay, squirt?”

Blaine shrugged, not trusting his voice.

“They're gone.”

Somehow, that was what pushed Blaine over the edge. The first tear finally escaped and made its tentative way down into his hair. As more followed the first one, Blaine couldn't hide the sniffle that accompanied them.

“Oh, Blainey.”

Cooper made himself comfortable against the headboard, one of his legs touching Blaine's back, and rested a hand on top of the latter's head.

“Don't touch the hair,” Blaine muttered, the usual fierceness absent from the familiar protest.

Cooper grinned. They stayed silent for a while as Cooper stroked his brother's shoulder blades with his knuckles.

“Don't listen to them,” the actor said eventually. “They're wrong.”

Blaine failed to suppress another sniffle.

“They are. Come on,” Cooper nudged him lightly, “we both know I'm the smartest 'cause I'm older than you.”

That earned him a half-laugh.

“Which also means I'm always right. So when I say they're wrong and they don't deserve you, you just have to nod and accept it,” he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You know,” Blaine teased mirthlessly, “I was hoping that once you got here your enormous ego would be enough to draw their attention away from me completely.”

Cooper laughed out loud.

“Who, me?” he feigned innocence. “Well, it's true I just can't help being amazing.”

Blaine wiped off the tears still clinging to his face and turned around, laying his head on his brother's thigh.

“Why didn't you say something sooner, Blainers?”

The youngest Anderson shrugged, refusing to meet Cooper's gaze.

“I didn't want this to happen.” It was only part of the truth, but he knew Cooper wouldn't ask further.

“This wasn't your fault, squirt. You know that, right?” Blaine shrugged again, not wanting to admit he did feel guilty for what had happened. “It wasn't. And since I'm the smartest...”

“Dream on, Coop.”

* * *

Since Cooper took his time coming back down, Nick decided to go and check how his boys were doing. When he knocked, it was Cooper, not Blaine, who answered. He half-expected Blaine to be asleep, but when he entered, there were two pairs of eyes looking up at him.

“I need to go call, um... my agent. I'll leave you two to it,” Cooper said, freeing himself while Blaine sat up. Nicholas took a seat on the edge of the bed, facing his son, who refused to look at him.

“Blaine?” He waited until his son finally would finally meet his eyes. “How long has this been going on?”

He tried to keep his tone carefully neutral.

“All week,” Blaine admitted after a few moments of silence, wringing his hands nervously.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Nick asked exasperatedly. “I could've helped you sooner.”

“I...”

Blaine's eyes were fixed on his hands again, prompting Nick to scoot a little closer and lift his chin gently.

“Hey, you can tell me. I won't be mad.”

“I didn't want to be the cause of any fights,” Blaine mumbled. “They're your parents. I was kind of hoping they'd get tired of it after a few days.”

Nick squinted in suspicion. He had a hunch that there was more to that statement than Blaine wanted to let on.

“That's not all, is it?”

He studied the succession of expressions that flitted across Blaine's face. If his interpretation was correct, there was another reason Blaine hadn't said anything, but he didn't dare tell his father, as if he were afraid of his reaction.

Of course.

“Blaine...” Nick took a second to put his thoughts into words. “It wasn't just about wanting to keep the peace, was it? You kept it to yourself because you didn't know how I'd react. Because they're my parents.”

Blaine didn't say anything. It looked like he wanted to deny what his father was saying, but couldn't because he didn't want to lie to him.

“You were afraid I'd choose their side.”

It wasn't a question.

“Dad...”

“No, wait, me first, okay?” Blaine nodded. “I know that, when you first came out,... we kind of hit a rough patch for a while. That was my fault, I'll be the first to admit that. And I'm sorry.”

“Dad, I know you are. You don't have to apologise again.”

“I kind of do, actually,” Nick corrected. “I should've realised there was a problem sooner, I should've known something like this might happen. Like you said, they're my parents; I know how they are. I just can't believe they would go this far, though. … I'm really sorry, buddy.”

“It's not your fault, dad, you didn't know.”

Nick nodded, acknowledging that his son was right.

“Blaine, despite what happened between us in the past, I really want you to know that I'll always stand by you. No matter what.” He held his son's gaze, hoping to convey how serious he was being. “You're my son, always will be. Nothing can change that. Okay?”

Blaine nodded.

“Promise me you'll tell me if something like this ever happens again.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Come here.”

Nick pulled his youngest into a tight hug, holding him as if he weren't going to let go again. In turn, he felt arms that once – a very long time ago – had been too short to reach all the way around his back return the hug firmly.

“Thanks, dad.”

Nick didn't say anything, just squeezed him a little tighter.

**The end.**

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt:
> 
> Prompt #659: It might haven taken a while for his parents to come around and be fully understanding and accepting of Blaine’s sexuality, but they are. However, his father’s parents come to stay with them for a few weeks over the summer, and they are very unaccepting. They’re overly critical of everything he does and when his parents aren’t around, they emotionally abuse him, calling him slurs and telling him his engagement to Kurt is a sin and that he will go to hell. Blaine doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t want to be the reason his father fights with his parents. But near the end of their stay, Blaine’s father walks in and hears his parents insulting Blaine. He stands up for his son, and there’s a huge argument, ending with Blaine’s father telling his parents to leave and essentially cutting off all ties with them. Blaine feels awful, even though his parents, Cooper and Kurt all assure him it wasn’t his fault.


End file.
